Goodbye to the Paintings on the Wall
by NoPoeticInsanity
Summary: Nobody told me that after an adventure, there's just life. Set after the game (don't worry, no spoilers for episode five as it's not out yet), this is about how Max is dealing with everything and how everyone else is too. Sorry to everyone who ships Chloe/Max but I am a Marren shipper at heart! Hope you enjoy
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This takes place after the game. Although I do not know - yet - the ending of the game, I'm going to try and write this anyways. We need some Marren fanfictions up in here. I hope that you enjoy.

* * *

 _Goodbye to the Paintings on the Wall_  
 _Chapter One_

Nobody told me I would have to deal with the aftermath of everything that has happened; nobody told me that after my adventure, one that I shared with friends, life would go on. As it had been when Chloe and I had investigated, everything was secret so nobody even knew. Not yet. Not about me, that is. The dead body, which I still can't refer to as Rachel, was found with an anonymous tip: us. The police, with more anonymous help, found the bastards. Sean Prescott's throne crumbled and Nathan, as fucked up as he is, got the help he deserved at least.

Arcadia Bay is barely functioning but it will get there and, when it does, I'll be at Blackwell or somewhere trying to stitch the remnants of my life together. Of course, I'll have help. "You're a hero, Max Caulfield," Warren is beside me, I asked him to stay with me. I'm not sure what it is, Jefferson and everyone else involved is behind bars, even so I still don't feel safe. "Even if you don't believe it yet."

"Warren, I saw a body," I stare outwards, away from him, at the sun creeping behind the bus. Still, even now, I can recall the stench, there is nothing like it. "This - no, that - was real, Warren. I saw a dead body, I saw Chloe get killed and I was able to play rewind." After I had told him, he thought I was crazy but then, soon after, quickly thought it was the coolest shit he had ever seen. And I had thought so at some point too.

I didn't ask for the responsibility of saving the day and I'm not saying that I regret it, it's just hard. "You did," he nods, his eyes soft as he gazes at me. "And here we are, saved, because of you. Max, you're amazing. You saved me, you, Chloe and every other person that could have died, it was all you. It was real, and yes, it sucked but it's over now."

"I hope so, Warren. I really do." I feel an arm over my shoulders and, unlike myself, I lean into my... I don't know what Warren is to me anymore. All I know is that now that I have almost died, been kidnapped, he's different. He's safe. "It's over for me but not for Chloe." The blue-headed girl was in a grieving process for her friend, I would have been there.

"It's just I went to her house last week, after _he_ (I still can't say his name) had been put in the cage and everything shit seemed to not be so shit. She was crying, her body racked with sobs and distress and sadness. But she was also in the arms of Joyce and it seemed as if those two deserved a moment together. So I left it, I texted her and I respected her wish to be alone. "Chloe will get there," Warren stares out, like me, as if he is looking for an answer, the right words to say. "But right now, my concern is you."

"Your concern?" I mumble, staring up at him. "I'm your concern?" There was, in the midst of the chaos of emotion, a slight feeling of happiness; it seemed dumb, with all that had happened. After what had happened, the pictures of me and the absolute grief, the mourning of the old me, I was sure that any romantic relationship would be gone. But now, with the attentive, caring Warren, I feel as if maybe something could happen. In the future. Near future?

"From day one, Max." He smiles, reciprocating my gaze. "Could you do me a favor?"

"Uh, not the best time to ask but," I pause, a hint of a smile on my lips. "Shoot."

"Don't rewind this," he nervously mumbles, leaning down and pressing his soft lips to mine. My eyes are wide but after a few seconds, I become less stiff and respond. At the beginning of my story, of our story, I didn't think Warren and I would ever... be together like this but now, after everything, it seems right. He eventually pulls away and it wasn't wild, it wasn't crazy, the kiss was emotional and tender.

Warren knows how I feel right now and he would initiate anything more, which is a part of the reason why I like him. "I'm glad I said yes," I mutter. "To go to the movies with you, even if we didn't go. Sorry about that." Because if I hadn't of said yes, then Brooke would be in my place. Or Stella. Like in the alternate universe. How did I change so much?

"Believe me," Warren says and there is a hint of humor. "It was about _time_ I asked you out." I rolled my eyes and swatted his arm, very funny. Blackwell, and Arcadia Bay for that matter, had some repairing. In the mean time, it seemed like life would be bearable with him. I could do this, team Max after all this time.

* * *

 **A/N:** Should there be a sequel? Message or comment, let me know.

Poor everyone. Dammit, Jefferson.


	2. Best friends, right?

**A/N:** I wasn't satisfied with the second chapter, so I decided to rewrite it and do something else instead. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

 ** _Chapter Two_**

All I could see was this intense, burning, white light that flooded my vision, anything else beyond that escaped my sight. It scorched me but I hadn't noticed until I had spoke, beads of sweat collecting on my forehead. "Please, you don't have to do this," I rasped, my throat on fire with what seemed to be an insatiable thirst. "Why are you doing this? Please, stop!"

Click. More bright light. "These are going to need more developing," I heard _his_ voice and shuddered, I had never had a bigger betrayal than this. I trusted you. I trusted him. My teacher. Click. Click. Flash.

The sounds registered instantly in my brain: a camera. Something I had loved, a tool that I had mastered, had become this device for evil, I had never guessed that life was just that until I laid on the cold floor. I could feel barely any clothing stick to my body, the sweat freely ran off of me. "Please, stop!" I had become a victim. "Water, help, stop."

Before I could say anything else, I felt a needle pierce my skin. Heavily medicated, I was theirs and not mine anymore.

I am a kid.

Not a hero, just because of a power I never wanted.

Click. Click. Flash. Click. Print. Computer. Talk. Door. Slam. Gun. Fatigue. Darkness.

* * *

Today, I couldn't tell you how many times I had revisited memories physically. There was a rush of staring at a family album and, for a few moments, becoming something other than a girl who could rewind time. I could feel my mothers arms before wrap around my small body after I had a dream, a nightmare, again. I spent my time in that memory a lot after the dark room. Rachel wasn't there as long as I was, he had told me that. "Max, are you alright?"

Although, now more than ever, I have been launched into memories at the smallest similarity between the present and the dark room I had to endure. "Yes," I shake my head and smile, dismissing him. I gaze at the bright screen, the burning light that resembled the one I woke up to. It surrounded me, exposed me. "I'm fine, don't worry about me, Warren."

We were at the movies and for once, I just wanted to enjoy myself. "Do you want to head out? You seem, I don't know, sad and I can be boring and this movie sucks anyway so I wouldn't mind if you wanted me to drive you back to-"

Suddenly, every past event flashed beyond my eyes and I manipulated time. Warren's movements, words, were backwards and here I was, watching him two minutes ago. His eyes weren't on the movie, they were on me. I stopped going back, I need to start looking forward. Past the darkroom. "Warren, didn't you bring me here to watch the movie?"

"How did you know?" Almost instantaneously, his eyes widen and he stares at me in disbelief. "You rewinded with your mad Max ninja power, but why?"

I shrug. "You tried to kiss me but you had nacho breath," I am nonchalant as he waves his arms, exasperated, and tries to sink further down the bumper of his car, onto the floor. "I'm kidding."

"Thank God."

"You smelled more popcorn-y." I laugh and he narrows his eyes. "But I like both popcorn and you, so I think it worked out well."

"I wish I had some of that mad Max ninja power," he mumbles.

As I lean in, his scent pleasantly surrounds me, I gently kiss his cheek and linger. Safe. Secure. For the rest of the movie, we're close together. My legs over his lap, leaning against his car and making fun of the movie (and each other).

* * *

Lame. It's real lame of me to go back to this memory but I can't help it; this specific moment in my life is the only time I felt content and happy. The golden sand is beneath my toes, carried away by an ocean of blue, it moves against my soft skin. "Max, when we find Rachel, let's head to Portland for a weekend," Chloe mutters. "Any time away from this shit hole."

"That would be awesome," I breathed but reliving this moment, I have a sinking feeling known that Rachel Amber - the girl in the body bag - is dead.

Sometime, when Chloe feels better, we'll go to Portland. Arcadia Bay is a shit hole, she's right, but it's also our home; the amount of times we have tried to escape, start a new life, have been unsuccessful and that's why. This is where we started and where we'll end, it's been written. Something like fate or some shit, I don't know. "Max, do you ever feel trapped?"

"Yes," I muttered. "This thing - being able to control time - it's scary, Chloe."

For a moment, there is silence and she just stares at me. This is the old Chloe, the emotional one, breaking through her tough exterior, I've seen this look before. Her eyes were soft and sad and her mouth was slightly parted as if she wants to speak, but doesn't know what to say. Her arms wrapped around me and then I hug her for, what could be, the last time that she is ever truly happy. "We're best friends, okay?" She says. "So, we're good if we're around each other."

"Are you high?"

"Can't I go emo for two seconds?" She rolled her eyes but she smiled, which is how I gauged that I hadn't overstepped the mark. "Anyway, you'd know when I was high. I go super mushy."

Before I nodded, my hands grasped the item in my bag I was searching for. A camera. It felt familiar against my skin, I know all the curves and edges of this old thing. Now, when I think about it, I think of him but hopefully, someday, I will be able to reconnect with what I love and forget what I hate. "Best friends forever, right? Then look this way, Chloe."

I made a funny face. "Are you high? What-" Flash. "Max, you didn't tell me! I BLINKED."

Now, I watch myself laughing. Simply an invader in the scene, another me. I was happy because I was with my best friend before the drama began. Before I was taken. Before she died for the millionth time. Now, though, I have to face life again.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for all the kind reviews, I take it that you're enjoying it and that's good. If you're a guest, unfortunately I can't reply. However, I do take any helpful advice and any suggestions. Thank you so much! Next chapter up maybe tomorrow or the day after~

(Am I dragging it out or is it still enjoyable?)


	3. A photograph

_Chapter Three_

There isn't a happy ending to everything; I played the part I was meant to, I was one of the many sacrifices in a story larger than Arcadia Bay's. A part of me is overjoyed, I have Warren, Chloe is alive and the people who played any part in Rachel's death are behind bars. However, I'm going to do something both selfish and selfless. I'm not happy about it because things will change, I may be alone.

Before what I'm going to do, which might not even work, I want to see him one last time. Due to the storm, which showed no mercy, the dorms are currently being rebuilt and so, kindly, a local motel offered up their rooms to the Blackwell students at a generous price. The only thing that remained from Blackwell were the steps outside and, even then, they were crumbling. "Warren," I smile but there is a hint of sadness, which, thankfully, he doesn't notice. "I just came to see you and thank you for the movie the other night, it really helped distract me."

"You don't have to thank me," he grins and I feel a pang of guilt, I'm going to leave this person. "Clearly my powers of persuasion worked, I didn't think you'd want to come after everything."

There is something different about this boy; it was definitely something that I liked. He wasn't entitled, he was someone that didn't take themselves too seriously and he could talk for hours but also be comfortable in silence. In a lot of wonderful and weird ways, he showed me how to be content with myself. "How could I pass up a chance with the mad scientist?" I tried to keep it up but I couldn't, I crumpled.

Quickly, he ushers me into his room and closes his door to give us privacy from the students lingering in the hallway. "Max, what's up?" He says quietly, his voice unusually serious. "I've never seen you like this before and it's freaking me out."

Why did everything have to be so difficult? I could have been happy with him but not at the price of Rachel's life or Chloe's happiness, I can't do that to people. I can't play God and decide who should be evidence for Jefferson's sick, cruel and shitty photo shoots of innocent girls. "I'm going back, Warren," I say quietly. "I can't sit here whilst Chloe is in her room everyday mourning for her girlfriend so I'm going to go really far back."

For a moment he turns away, stretching his arms behind his head and letting out an exasperated, frustrated sigh. I had told Warren about the photographs, he had help me practice the power I have and he knew my progress. "Max, you can't," he faces me and his expression I can't decipher, it's torn. "I've read the sci-fi novels but I've also seen your power, you've not even practiced enough. You'll screw everything up, what if you get stuck? Everything won't be the same, you and I won't have-"

Why is he making it harder for me? "What? Kissed? We won't have kissed?" I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose with my fingers. "Warren, I love you, okay? But a girl died, my best friend has been crying in her room for something like three weeks now? I was kidnapped by our photography teacher and this is so fucked up! What kind of world do we live in? I mean, who does this? I can't anymore, I have to go back, it's the only thing I can do! Warren, please."

As I talked, let everything out, I slowly sunk closer to the ground and he did with me. I'm drowning in incoherence and emotion; it's becoming too much for me to handle. I want to wash away the guilt of Rachel being dead and me doing nothing about it, I want Rachel to be alive and to be able to sleep at night. "It's okay," he whispers, cradling me. I want to be independent but right now, I need this. "Please don't do this."

"I have to, Warren."

Before he releases me from his tight embrace, he leans over me and gets his camera. "Then you're going to need this to come back if you do something wrong," he mutters, sulking about my decision. I understand. "And remember this, Max, read the back when you feel like coming home." I am confused at first but then he kisses me and I see the flash.

The photograph is held so tightly in his hands and he's writing something on the back and I understand, it's his last message to me as present Warren. He hands me the photo and I see his glassy eyes, filled with tears waiting to spill. "Goodbye, Warren." I try to smile but I can't, then I'm gone and walking down the hallway. That is the last I will ever see of my boyfriend, the current Warren who likes me.

* * *

On the polished wood in front of me is a green cereal box, my favorite cereal, which is empty. From the bowl in front of me, which has no trace of food and a residue of milk, I suspect that I've eaten the last part. The apartment is as I remember it, as it is in the photo. It's white and blue in the dining room, each room in this place has a designated color. That's the way my mother wanted to decorate it. "You're quiet today, Maxine," she says from the other end of the table, eating her organic breakfast or something. "What's on your mind?"

Warren, mostly. "Nothing."

But mom, you haven't met the boy I'm missing. There is a possibility that I may never see him again and, if I do, it's because something I've done has had horrible consequences that aren't repairable. I was a girl, who came from an ordinary family and didn't expect to amount to much. Now, I'm Max. The girl who can rewind if she misses her favorite show on TV. "I'm going to head to Arcadia Bay later."

In this reality, I had never said that before. I had improvised in a scene I had altered. We had talked about going shopping for the things I'd need when I went to Blackwell, the place where my life went to shit and the place where I enjoyed my life the most. It's strange. My mother stands in the doorway as I wash my bowl in the sink, my parents have always been the type to hover. I know it's because they care but sometimes, I felt so trapped. "Why is that, honey? Are you going to see Chloe? That would be really nice, I'm sure."

I lean against the kitchen counters, my skin grazing the smooth, cold marble. "Yep," I lift myself up, sitting on top of them. "I'll stay with her, I'm sure she won't mind."

My mother tuts disapprovingly, her hands poised on her hips and, suddenly, I feel like a fugitive. "You cannot just show up like that, Maxine! I didn't raise you to be that way, did I?" Moms have this power to make you feel guilty, even if you don't necessarily agree with them. "I'm sure you can go another time, when you've asked them a week in advance at least."

Let's try this again, Max. Say something less stupid.

I lean against the kitchen counter, feel my skin graze the smooth, cold marble for the second time. I have never experienced truly living inside of a memory but, so far, nothing has gone wrong. "Yep," I lift myself onto the counter. "I've asked Chloe and she said her parents would be cool, so I'm going there tonight."

"You can't just show up on her parents like that, Maxine."

Rewind. Stupid.

This time I hadn't packed my bags. " _Maxine_ ," my strict mother shot me daggers.

Rewinding again.

And then I hadn't taken time from work. "I can't believe you wouldn't think about that!"

Rewinding.

"So, mom, I took time off from the cafe, I asked Chloe and her parents and they said that was cool and I've packed my bags," I breathe. "Are we okay?"

"I didn't need all that information, honey," She smiles and I try to contain my sass. "I'd have been fine with you're just going."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hope you enjoyed~


	4. Alone Somedays

**WARNING : This chapter has implications of rape, abuse and drugs etc. Please don't read if you are triggered by these things, at the end of the chapter there are a few numbers you can ring if you need help with any of these things.**

* * *

 _Chapter Four_

Everything has changed again and I'm alone; more so than before, I want to go back home and I'm fighting the urge to see Warren again. This journey, on this bus, is worse than I remember, I'm jolted into the air as the bus speeds past the road bumps, making it impossible to sleep. I am overcome with this fatigue, this burning sensation that agonizes my cells into sleep. The edges of my sight are clouded with red and white, slowly creeping to the center of my vision and causing me to be temporarily blind. I have overused my power, great.

It's hard to keep the negativity, the poison that has seeped through my skin, away from my thoughts; I am alone again, with my power, like I was before. Except this time, Jefferson is still out there somewhere. I shudder, my body's natural and submissive reaction to Jefferson. I'm scared of him, it's taken me a long time to even think his name without the memories resurfacing. I'm not sure whether the thought of the monster, who's perspective is behind a camera frame, has made me cold or whether I'm ill; it's probably a concoction of the two.

Although it's uncomfortable, I rest my head against the window. Even now, I can hear the -

* * *

 _Click. Click. Click._

Burned. Burned. Bright light. Same old. Parched. Sweat.

I hadn't counted the time, which I had known was relatively short, that I had been in the torture room for but it felt like I had known this light for years. It fluctuated, spreading across my vision, as I tried to look past it and into the room. The door had slammed, I had heard a voice. "Bitch, stop crying!" A boy shouted, his voice wavering with emotion. I heard a smack. "You're so... God damn... annoying! Get. Off!"

"Nathan, please!" A girl. Help me, please. God, save us.

"Put her over there," the monster, who had just separated his prey, continued on his work. I could hear the _click._ More light, I suspect it was the flash.

To describe the feeling of the drugs they gave me, which coursed through my veins, is hard; it's almost as if you've taken heroine, you become entirely numb. I felt the numbness spreading through my limbs but I tried to fight it, I tried to hold onto the pain. I couldn't tell where or when they had touched me, positioned me for their sick photos. More importantly, I couldn't run if I was like this.

Before my eyes evolved to the room, there was a flash of blonde hair and I realized who I had been in the dark room with. Victoria. She was cowered, whimpering. There were worse things than the torture here; the humiliation and the shame was the thought that hurt me the most, their hands had defiled my body as they used me like a toy. They had photos of me. "Max? Why are you here?" Her voice was more of a mumble now, they had medicated her. "Please don't hit me!"

In Jefferson's photos displayed around Blackwell, I had always found themes of control and submission. Never had I suspected that in real life, Nathan was the man looming over the girl. Jefferson was the one who practiced this. Nathan raised his hand as if to hit Victoria, who had squirmed in front of me. With the last bit of effort I had, before I passed out, I threw myself in front of her.

A slap. More slaps. Touching my stomach, hands trailing down... Words. Horrible words. Submissive. Abused.

 _Click._

 _Click._

 _Click._

* * *

The cold air whips at my exposed skin, tightening my muscles as I try to protect myself from the winter's weather. Arcadia Bay was too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter; it swapped extremes each time another season invaded. I remember this year, Chloe had told me it was the coldest it had ever been. I make my way down the pavement, walking quickly to escape the environment's wrath. "Shit, it's freezing." I voice to myself, tricking my brain out of loneliness. "Shit, shit, shit."

I pull my hat further down, covering my eyes. This is going to be a long walk.

* * *

An explosion of color was across Chloe's clothes, lilac and sapphire has blended into a top I had bought her years and years ago. Her wet hair is similar to a hedgehog, spiked out in different directions. Wide eyes stare at me, she is surprised that I bothered to visit her. I had been a very, very bad friend. That's going to change now, Chloe, you'll never understand but I'll always be here. "Shit," is the first thing she says before a wide grin is across her face. "Max, you're here. Why? I mean not that I'm not happy you're here but, why? What's wrong?"

It should have been fine to say 'nothing is wrong, I just wanted to see you' but I couldn't help but divulge information onto my best friend. I parted my mouth, eager to tell her all that I knew. Then I saw the girl in the body bag animated and alive, her skin colored and her blood pumping. "You're Max, right?" She says and her voice is soft. "It's nice to meet you. I'm-"

"You're Rachel Amber." The girl who will go missing soon.

Both of the teenagers exchange a look before they focus their attention on me once again, they are confused. "I know it's sudden," I add. "But I need a place to stay because something in Arcadia Bay is going to happen and I need to stop it."

"Max, what are you talking about?" Chloe seems scared almost, vulnerable. Confused.

"I can tell you," I say. "But it's cold out here."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **For some reason the links hadn't showed up for the sites that I found but honestly it is so easy to find any site you want about any topic, I urge you if you or someone you know is in need to get help. You're not alone as cliche as that sounds.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed.**


	5. You're not safe anymore, J

_Chapter Five_

I haven't seen Chloe in years in this timeline; she stares at me as if I'm alien but I have known her, who she has become, for a while. Guilt subsides in my stomach, making me feel nauseous, to think at the horrible friend I've been to her, in this reality and the one I live in. How could I have just left when her dad died? I try to avoid her eyes because I know I've hurt her, this is me repaying my debt. For her, though. Not for me. "It's been a while, Max," she says. "When did you decide to suddenly show up to the shit show Arcadia Bay?"

The dining table, which Rachel's fingers brush against, seems large like it did before when William was alive. I remember when I use to see three people, a family, enjoying breakfast over this table, I remember joining them. I'm glad that Rachel was here, at least for a while, to soothe Chloe when I wasn't; I doubt that Chloe would have been here if Rachel hadn't came around. Under the table, like their relationship I suppose, is their hidden intertwined hands, which they think I haven't noticed. "Thank you for taking me in," I avoid her question, I don't give an answer.

The two girls exchange a look, suspicion painted on their faces, before settling their eyes on me once again. Chloe, with one eyebrow arched, digs the issue further and says, "You didn't answer my question. Max, what's going on? You show up at my door and don't even give me an answer as to why you are here? 'Something is going to happen', well, what is it?"

Chloe, I don't want to lie to you more than I already have to. She waits for an answer which I can't give, she waits for something that destroyed my life and she doesn't even know it. "I got accepted into Blackwell," I say. The letter has been delivered but, according to my memory, I haven't opened it yet; I already know that I've been accepted. I won't be happy this time. "So the something is me moving here, I hope you're okay with me being around."

A towel, the same shade as her hair, is wrapped around Chloe's shoulders and as she enthusiastically jumps up to show her excitement, tiny water droplets travel to the ends and fall on the towel. "No fucking way, are you serious, Max?" She grins but I didn't want that reaction; for some reason, I wanted her to punish me. I'm a terrible excuse for a human, a friend... a girlfriend. Warren. "That's so amazing! Are you serious?!"

"I'm cereal," I mutter as she celebrates with Rachel, who also seems excited. "Rachel, listen to me."

This captures the attention of my peers, who turn to me instantaneously. Now, my voice is laced with seriousness. "Both of you actually. I want you to stay away from Mark Jefferson, the photography teacher at Blackwell," I pause, his poisonous name rolls easily off my tongue and it sickens me. "I know you don't understand and it's hard to explain, a really long story. It's just I know a girl, I know her really well, who was hurt by him. Really bad. Promise me, if you do see him, you'll go together and tell someone else."

"Okay?" Chloe promises and Rachel seems phased. "Max, chill. None of us even like Jefferson. He tried to come onto Rachel."

The animated corpse, Rachel, looks away and there is a sense of guilt. I know what she did.

They fade into the distance and I watch memories unfold before my eyes, pictures I've seen change. There is a picture of the three of us dancing together, we've become friends. The next is the day I move into Blackwell, Chloe and I smile among piles of boxes. Then, as I did when I first came to Blackwell, I meet Warren after both reading the same nerdy comic and we hit it off. At least one thing didn't change.

Change. I'm not, and will never be, used to it.

* * *

There was one day in my life that will be more significant than the others for numerous reasons; today was the day I had found my ability, my vulnerability and enemy in such a short span of time. The classroom is as I remember it before everything happened, before it was destroyed by the storm. My camera, which I had lost and sadly replaced, is in front of me. My baby! I pick it up, my fingers tracing over the familiar bumps and curves of this model. I loved this camera. No, I love this camera. This time thing is hard to wrap your head around. "Diane Arbus," my attention is drawn immediately to Victoria, who is different from the last time I saw her.

* * *

Two people, who aren't friends, passing in the hallway is very normal, except I knew her at her weakest moment. Unlike herself, who usually has infinite confidence, she walked close to the walls of the hall and keeps to herself. Her normal straight, controlled, golden hair had turned darker and it looked as if it hadn't been brushed in days. When her eyes landed on me, as we almost met, she didn't exactly smile. She tilted her head and her eyes softened, she looked right through me. I know that the way I look at her must be similar because we didn't look at each other, we looked past who we were and, instead, the label we shared. Victim.

Her eyes, lifeless, reminded me of the person I see when I look into the mirror, her twitches as people brushed past her reminded me of his hands on my body and, finally, her apparent bruises showed the physical marks left behind us by that monster. I hadn't rewinded yet, I hadn't saved Chloe yet. I was too weak. However, when I did, Victoria's body would be healed and what he had done would be erased but I would remain the same. I would be hurt still, I would had have the bruises and the reminders. Except, I wouldn't be able to tell anyone because technically it didn't happen. I had to pretend to be the same.

* * *

"There you go, Victoria! Why, Arbus?"

Almost like clockwork, my body responds instantly to his smooth voice. _It_ sends chills down my spine as my heartbeat intensifies, I feel the chemicals in my body preparing me to run and, yet, I stay. I crane my neck to see him, forcing my eyes on the person who has ruined my life. On the gray desk, he positions himself, propped by his arms which are further back than the rest of his body, leaning gently against it. His head, sharp, jagged features from the side, is tilted as he stares at Victoria. He's facing the girls of the class, I hadn't noticed this before. "Because of her images of hopeless faces," Victoria answers, her voice confident like before. "You feel like, totally haunted by the eyes of those sad mothers and children."

Now, after I've been hurt, I notice the red flags. He's charismatic and entices you with the promise of intelligent conversation, he's groomed, he's overly confident and has this aura of superiority. It's textbook and I can't believe how easy it is to notice it. "She saw humanity as tortured, right? And, frankly, it's bullshit." He pauses as the students excitedly comment on his use of language. "Seriously, though, I could frame any one of you in a dark corner and capture you in a moment of desperation. And any one of you could do that to me. Isn't that too easy? Too obvious."

How could I have been so stupid? So blinded by his talent? My eyes are wide as his words filter through in my brain, I try to process them but I can't. That's what he did to me. In the dark room. The dark room. With shaky hands, I pick up my camera. This is what came next, after the lecture I hadn't paid attention to. There is a small flash and I hear the machine working. "Shh, I believe Max has taken what you kids call a dumb "selfie"." Don't talk to me. My heart beats rapidly. "A dumb word for a wonderful photographic tradition and Max has a gift. Of course, as you all know, the tradition has been popular since the early 1800s. Your generation is not the first to use images for selfie-expression. Sorry. I couldn't resist."

All I can think about is how my name sounds from his mouth, how there is a hint of malicious intent there I hadn't noticed before. I had read online that psychopaths, like Jefferson, like to drop hints about their delight in fooling you. I just found one. 'I could capture any one of you in a dark corner' seems to be blatant and he was right, he fooled me. But now, I'm coming for you, bastard. "The point remains that the portraiture has always been a vital aspect of art, and photography, for as long as it's been around."

"Now, Max," he continues, directly addressing me. I'm scared of this man and I can feel it, my heart feels like it's going to tear through my skin. "since you've captured our interest and clearly want to join the conversation, can you please tell us the name of the process that gave birth to the first self portraits?"

The day where I'd face him again seemed to not exist but here I am, I'm scared. I feel boiling as beads of sweat collect on my forehead, my palms become sweaty and I rub them on my jeans. "Uh," is the first thing I say. "The Daguerreian Process... Invented by a French p-painter named Louis Daguerre... Around 1830." I may be scared but I'm also angry.

And that's more empowering now that I've spoken to him. "Somebody has been reading up as well as posing. Nice work, Max." He says.

* * *

A figure loomed over me but I couldn't see, I knew who it was regardless. "Can't you smile for me, Max?" He smiled, taking delight in my pain. "I want to see some of your stellar poses, you never paid attention in class but I didn't mind. Now, if you could be so kind, turn to the right or I'll make you turn."

Sobs racked through my body as I thought: he's safe.

* * *

You're not safe anymore, Jefferson. I'm coming after you.

* * *

 **A/N: Please give me feedback on if you liked this chapter or not. I'm sorry for the darker themes once again.**


	6. You haven't changed, Warren I like it

_Chapter Six_

And now I see the ploy to get young girls dosed, which was disguised by a contest with a prize that everyone wanted. For a moment, the first thought that comes to mind is: 'thank God, I didn't enter.' However, I soon realize that whether I entered or not, I was still in the dark room. He somehow still got me and doesn't even realize what he did because technically, nothing happened. I erased my own torture but not the memories of it, or the scars.

It doesn't matter about that now. Rachel is safe but other girls aren't, I'm not, unless he's put behind bars. Kate, poor Kate, isn't safe. I approach the two for the second time, I had to rewind the first because I vomited in the trash can when he said my name. "Am I, uh, interrupting?" I say, hugging my body and shielding my body from his predatory gaze.

"Yes," Victoria says, venom seeps through her voice and poisons the air as she speaks. "You are."

For a moment, there is a crack in Jefferson's facade. He's visibly irritated, the corners of his mouth twitch as he tries to regain his smile. He never liked Victoria, he is incapable of liking anyone. He doesn't understand what emotion is. "No, you aren't interrupting anything, Max," he says gently, sick slowly creeps back up through my throat. "I'd never let one of photography's future stars avoid handing in her picture."

"I'm not avoiding." I say with a tone of finality. "It's an optional contest and I don't want to do it."

I see red, my body is alive with adrenaline again. This time I'm not running away, I'm fighting. I see he's angry too, all because he wants me for his sick photo shoots. Well, fuck you, Jefferson. I'm going to save everyone I can, everyone that I love, and bring you down. "Well, I'm disappointed," he sighs. "I hope you hand in a picture, Max, but go on, don't let me stop you."

Taking his invitation to leave, I turn, feeling his eyes bore into my back, to exit the classroom. As the door opens, I'm hit with a wave of noise and it all seems too much. People talk and talk, trying to raise their voices to compete with each other. I see Chloe and Rachel, standing near the lockers. "Max, are you okay?" Chloe asks, concern in her voice. "You look kinda pale."

I just talked to the person who-

Since Rachel never disappeared, Chloe never ran into Nathan? Another reason why I made the right decision, Chloe wasn't drugged or, possibly, _felt_ this time around. She didn't have to go through anything like I did. Suddenly, though, it doesn't seem real. "I'm fine," I pause, looking down the hallway as an idea comes to mind. "Hey, I'll catch you guys later. Okay?"

"'Kay," Rachel smiles, looping her arm through Chloe's. "Get some rest, Max. Sleep up and feel better."

The two walk away with their arms intertwined and smiles on their faces, this scene reminds me again that I made the right choice. Chloe's happiness is worth more than mine and it always will, she's my best friend. I'd do anything for her and now, I'd do anything for Rachel or Warren. I follow the two half the way and then turn right and into the girl's bathroom. My idea. I have to do it.

Past the cubicles, there is a fire alarm. I slam into it with the tool I know is under the washing supplies, I've done this before. The alarm starts to wail through the hallways and I run out to see David, the guy I wanted, ushering everybody out. I approach him and pull him to the side. "Oh, Max," he says. "You should be outside."

"I know what you're investigating, David." I state. "And I've got lots and lots of information to end the case so I want in. Follow me and I'll tell you."

* * *

For a moment, after trying to absorb all the information I just told him, he just stands there with a disgusted expression on his face. He's not sure what to feel; I can tell because I was unsure, too. If I'm not happy with what he says, I'll rewind. All too often, the bad guys had clever disguises. I'm more street smart now than I was before. "If Jefferson and Nathan," the words, which roll of his tongue, now seem tainted by the information. "are here, then the bunker will be empty. I'm going."

"No, _we're_ going," I correct. "I need to make sure you won't destroy the evidence, David."

His eyebrows arch, much like Chloe's do when she's confused, as he tries to understand my logic. "Why would I do that?" He asks, folding his arms as he stares at me.

"Because all of the bad guys have been people I've trusted and I'm tired of finding out too late that I can't trust them at all," I answer.

* * *

There wasn't anything unfamiliar about the drugs Jefferson medicated me with, put me to sleep with. My body had become welcoming to them, inviting the feeling of sleep and numbness because I had become too tired of pushing it away and resisting it. That was what the dark room did to you. I had been in there half a day but it felt like years.

However, what was strange was that I was alone. I opened my eyes slowly, they still felt heavy, to see that no one, not even Nathan, was around. The only person was Victoria, who was also tied to a chair, but she was sleeping. The only thing I had heard was the gentle vibrating sound, a phone tapping against a surface. I looked immediately at the desk to see my cell phone.

With all my strength, I stood with the chair and let my weary body struggle. "Focus, Max," I whispered to myself. Words of encouragement. "You can do this, one step after the other."

Tears streamed down my face as the phone was in my reach, I had done it. The feeling that I might be saved overcame me and I used my nose to answer the call. "Max? Where are you?" He asked, worried. "No one has seen you, Victoria has gone missing and you've gone missing and-"

"Warren, I need you to focus," I said and told him the address of the dark room. "Bring a shitload of police and David. Please, Warren, please." I cried, sobs racked through my body.

"Max-" Suddenly I heard footsteps leading down into the bunker, the pressing of the buttons to open the large door.

"Warren, please be quiet, sh."

I waddled back to my place in time and closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. Please don't notice me. I panicked, my heart beat had rose as high as it could. I felt his fingers brush against my soft skin, trailing down towards my neck. "I know you're not asleep."

* * *

The farm house, the one I was contained in, is before me and my body reacts as you think it would. I panic, I want to go back but I can't. I need to do this. "Do you have a gun?" I ask David. "Because they have and it might come down to that, you know?"

He nods and I follow him into the barn, strong scents of decaying wood hit me and I hope that nothing else here is decaying, too. I show him the door and the stairs leading down. That's when it really hits me, breaths become hard to take and I am frozen. "L-let's go," I say and walk down, with his help. I tell him the code to the door and watch it open.

The torture room.

I head straight for the folders, deciding that if I powered through it, I'd be alright. Sadness. I'm so sad. Rage. I'm so angry. Humiliation. I'm embarrassed. When I turn around with the red binders, I see David looking at the desk. At a bottle of drink. "What is it?" I ask, confused.

"You have to have a distinct taste to like that," he states.

"And?"

"It tastes like shit and the only one who likes it is Principal Wells."

* * *

In the dark room, under the intense, bright light, you learned to pay attention to the voices you heard rather than the things you saw. With the drugs, you never knew what to expect and what'd you hallucinate.

I heard Jefferson in the other room, squabbling with a voice that didn't belong to Nathan. It was strange. Usually only Jefferson and Nathan came here, there had been no other man.

He sounded older and as he walked closer, I could hear the distinct gruff in his voice. He sounded drunk. "I want _her_ pictures."

* * *

"Principal Wells is the one," I whisper. "David, you're right. He's here. He's a part of this thing. I'm so stupid, God!"

After my outburst, David and I search silently for other things. I look through the red binders, scanning for victims I recognize or places that, well, they may have ended up. These are people I know I couldn't save but somehow, I still feel so incredibly guilty. My stomach churns as I look at the next victim and it hits me that I haven't changed anything. Rachel as been replaced with a girl named Clementine. "David, in the junkyard, there is a body under one specific point," I sob, my hand flying to my mouth. "I can't go with you but it looks like this girl is being put in the ground."

I'm so fucking stupid.

Ugh, Max!

* * *

When I leave, I go back to my dorms. I told David that if he finds anything, which I know he will, he needs to phone me immediately and let me know; I've gave him his clues and he should help me. He tried to ask where I knew all of this but I said it was complicated, I didn't want to go over it now. He drove me back to Blackwell and I sulked all the way up here.

I approach my door, only to see him in front of it. Warren. "Hey, what are you doing here?" I smile, wiping away the water from my cheeks. I had cried a lot.

"Chloe told me you were ill," he smiles and holds up food and a movie. I grin, laughing a little.

You haven't changed, Warren. I like that.


	7. When you come back, Max

_Chapter Seven_

When I made the sacrifice, I thought that I, Max Caufield, could have actually been a hero for somebody. I thought that I could have been a hero for a girl that wasn't suppose to die, an innocent girl that got mixed up in the wrong crowd and suddenly disappeared. Now, I realize how fucking stupid I am. No, Max, you can't be a hero; you have traded one life for another. Rachel Amber for a girl named Clementine, she probably had a family, people she needed to support and a happy life. I despise myself, I hate myself and I loathe those who have no memory of what happened. Victoria. Chloe. Warren.

Snoring pulls me from my thoughts and I see Warren, he's poised on the floor, his head leaning against my bed, with his mouth open. I, for a moment, am able to smile but then the anger returns and so does the guilt. I'm never going to be able to get over what Jefferson did to me and I haven't got real revenge yet; I have changed, become bitter and I don't want Warren - or anyone else - to see me this way. I'm not Max anymore, I'm a girl who is more angry than sane. No one should have to see me like this, even I'm afraid of myself.

There are days where it's hard to get out of bed and there are other days, perhaps I have them more often now, that I'm so angry I isolate myself and break everything in my sight. When that happened, I'd always have Warren. Now I'm left with him and it's both a blessing and a curse; he doesn't remember everything I told him so it's a fresh start, but I'm also lying to him. And the longer it goes on, the more I'm going to feel guilt. I know, rationally, that I can't tell him _everything_ because I'm not ready and Warren would do anything for me.

Reaching over him, I get a sticky note from my desk and start to scribble a note.

 _Warren,_

 _C U later. Thanks for the film._

 _Max._

The thought that I should wait until he wakes up to say goodbye crosses my mind, I am always the one to be polite, but I can't. I just want to take a shower and clean all of this crap off of me, I've touched things in the dark room and I feel tainted. "Alright," I whisper to myself and get up, gathering clothes and the things I need before heading out. In the hallway, slightly further up, I see Victoria and I realize that she's going to be the biggest bitch she can on the one day I can't handle it.

When she sees me, a wide, cruel smirk goes across her face. If only she knew that I saved her from most of the horrors that I had faced, if only she knew that I had taken hits for her when I didn't have to... If only she knew all of that, maybe she'd be nicer to me. Feel sorry, feel empathy or fucking something. "Max," she says and I glare at her. "Going to school like that? I have to be honest, it's better than she normally looks."

She turns to her friends and they all snicker, caught in their moment of malice and forgetting the destruction that follows. "You know what," I smile, anger visible through my clenched fists and hard eyes. "Eat shit, Victoria."

They shout something as I walk into the shower rooms but I really couldn't care less, they deserve every insult that I give them and some. I quickly undress and feel the water caress my skin, everything bad has now been washed from my body but not my thoughts. I rub soap into my skin, watching the bubbles quickly run towards the drain. I can't rinse away the name Clementine from my mind, it's all I can think about.

* * *

When I'm dressed in my casual attire, I wander back to my room and debate whether class, which I am suppose to show up to, could be ditched today. I'm surprised when I open the door and see Warren, looking outside of my window. I clear my throat and he jumps, turning around to face me with a goofy grin on his face. "Max," he breathes and straightens his shirt. "Sorry I didn't go, I wanted to catch you first."

I shift my weight from one foot to the other, leaning on my white door's handle, as I watch him; as usual, he wears the goofy grin that is contagious and his eyes are bright with happiness. The guilt comes back, creeping its way through my wind and onto my face. I grimace slightly and thankfully, Warren doesn't notice. Can I really be with him? Dammit, I'm losing everything. "No," I say through gritted teeth. "You're always welcome here, Warren. Thanks for the movie, I needed a distraction."

"Anytime," he says and I can't help but laugh, does time really have to be involved in everything I do? "Why are you laughing?" He is grinning, too.

Shaking my head and waving him off, I wonder what would be the best way to explain something that technically doesn't exist. "No, it's just," I begin, smiling to myself. "A long time ago, you made a joke that sounded like that. It's almost like deja vu following me." The day that we kissed that doesn't exist for you, Warren, but always will for me.

"Oh," he smiles, probably unsure of what to say. I would be the same. "Glad I can make you laugh or provide distraction."

For a moment, he seems to be knowing. His eyes search mine and I feel the old Warren again, the one who is more considerate because he knows of the crap and the dirt that I've been through. I nod, he's always been a person that could make me laugh. I miss the old Warren, I miss my old life. Everyone here seems happy but I'm not. "See you, Mad Max."

Our shoulders brush together as he leaves, his eyes on me until he closes the door again. I turn around and search the desk for the polaroid he took, the one in another timeline. At first, I panic because I can't find it. However, with a second glance, I see it staring at me. My eyes and his eyes are happier, they seem more knowing, in that picture despite the situation, we were just happy to be kids again. I turn it over eagerly to read the message he wrote me and I realize I wasn't prepared in the slightest.

 _When you come back, I can say I love you too._

* * *

 **A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is so, so short! I'm busy but I still wanted to upload another one. A bit of fluff for the Marren shippers finally! Please review because it encourages me to write, any constructive criticism is welcome! :3**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	8. I'll do it alone

Sometimes, when I should be asleep, I'm awake. I stare, my legs pushed to my chest, at the white walls around me, my photos depress me and I want to tear them up and throw them away. Something tells me I shouldn't; one day, I'll be happy again and these photos will be pleasant to look out. However, that day seems so far away and I'm too tired. I hold the most important power, not just for Arcadia Bay but everywhere. I am not an influential or persuasive person, I do not have money or status, I do not have friends who are famous, instead I have a power, which is a burden, that I can use to save lives.

That's what I thought, at least. The day I rewinded, saved Rachel from her fate, I doomed someone else. You can't change things that happen, I realize that now but don't have the heart to rewind again and save Clementine instead of Rachel. However, I no longer have told David. I went back to the night before; I am paranoid. I can't trust him. I stare at the wall, figuring out what I should do instead. As my eyes, slowly close, I am woken by a buzzing sound next to my bed, my phone screen illuminates the room and the mess I have created. Rachel.

Although I know that we're friends, we're not. I realize that I have really only spoken to Rachel twice in my entire life; she is my friend, despite knowing nothing about her. I feel a sense of guilt, even though it's not my fault I know nothing. Perhaps it is. I reach down, scooping my phone into my hands and pressing accept. Immediately, I hear her sigh and her nervousness travels to me, I can feel it. "Max, you there?" She asks. "I really need to talk to someone, other than Chloe that is."

A part of me understands that Chloe, at times, can be hard to talk to but, surely, if you're in a relationship, you should be able to talk to the other person? So, as I reply, I listen for her response, intrigued. "Yeah, hey, Rachel," I greet her, tired. I have been up for a long, long time. "What's up? You sound really nervous. Is everything okay with Chloe? She's not hurt or anything, right?"

"Oh, no." Rachel reassures me. "She's totally fine. It's me. I'm in trouble, Max."

Uh oh. "What have you done, Rachel?" From the tone of her voice, I can tell it's serious.

"I cheated, Max, but it wasn't because I wanted to. Jefferson, that guy, he, uh, is blackmailing me. He said he'd bump by grades for nothing, I swear. I, obviously, was kinda suspicious but fuck man, I agreed. Wouldn't you? Then he stars blackmailing me, saying that if I don't sleep with him or something, he'll get me expelled. I can't get expelled, I have nowhere to go."

If I let Clementine die, I'm not going to let Rachel die, too. This isn't fair, you fucker. You don't get Rachel and those other girls, you don't get me this time. I am boiling with anger, how dare he touch her? How dare he do this?! "No, you're going to meet me." I say through clenched teeth, my lips dry with bitterness. "Get Chloe, get your clothes and meet me outside in the parking lot."

* * *

From the distance, I can see the vibrant, blue hair Chloe possesses. Tears in my eyes, I wonder what I will say when I reach them, how they will react to what I'm going to say. This is going to be the last time I see my best friend... and my other best friend, who I don't know. "Hey," I fake a smile. "I'm going to tell you both something that's, uh, really upsetting and you're going to be scared. You're going to want to help me but you can't, get in the car and let's drive for a bit."

Silently, they do as I say because, well, a) they're probably already scared, b) nervous about my behavior and c) curious. As Chloe exits Blackwell, I turn around and see the lights in the school. "Okay," I say, my head against the window. "Prepare yourselves because you're not going to believe me, I'm perfectly serious with what I'm about to say, okay?"

"Alright, Max," Chloe replies hurriedly. "What is it?"

As I tell them about my power, they both kid and joke before they realize that I'm serious. I've rewinded an abundance of times, to try and say the right thing that will make them believe me. "You can't be serious," I say simultaneously with Chloe, narrowing my eyes. "Rachel, you're about to call me crazy and then Chloe will offer to drop me back to Blackwell after agreeing."

After that, they both are quiet and still. "I can't explain everything in one short car ride," I say. "All that I can say is if you both stay here, you'll both die. I should know, I lived your death three times, Chloe. I can't do it a fourth time."

"What?" She squeals. "Max, this is some scary shit."

After that, I tell them what is happening. I don't tell them everything, I don't tell them that Rachel was killed by Jefferson, even though she asks what I meant by her death. I tell her I hadn't talked to her since the day I came back to Arcadia Bay, I said I had rewinded for them both rather than just her. I have begun to like her, in the short time that I've known her. "I have, uh, $400. I think that should get you a decent motel room, you guys could have a road trip and leave me out just this once. When everything is sorted, when I've done everything, I'll come join you."

"Max-"

"I'll send you some money every week," I smile sadly. "Get a job, though. After you've moved around a bit, definitely get a job. Chloe, you're going to need to dye your hair because apparently there's a thing with jobs and dye. Cover up your tattoos, too. I don't want you to not get a job." I wipe away the tears and laugh, feeling silly at how sad I feel.

"Max," she interrupts me. "I can't leave you when you're not safe."

The tears for a moment stop, my mouth parts as I breath and sigh from exasperation. They make this hard; I don't want them to leave. "I've lived through you staying and helping me, Chloe," I halfheartedly smile. "And I've lived through you being a pain in the ass for this whole week. I lived through you dying for me and, trust me, no matter what happens I live."

"What if it changes, Max?" Rachel turns to face me. "What if somehow you don't know everything? You and Chloe lived this and you didn't say me, I was dead, wasn't I? You came back to save me, didn't you?"

"How do you know?" I tilt my head, confused.

"Because that's so typically Max," she wipes her tears away and laughs. "You're my best friend, even if you don't really know me. I love you, obviously not in the same way as Chloe," - she glances at Chloe - "but you're my friend and we need you as much as you need us."

"Just take me home and leave, I don't need help. I need my friends to be safe."

* * *

When they drop me a few minutes away from Blackwell, prepared to leave, I hand Chloe, through the window, a envelope containing the money they need and all the money I have. "I'm going to miss you guys," I breathe, holding back tears I haven't had before. "I'll see you soon, so save a space for me in the car and don't have too much fun. Send me pictures."

"We will, Phil of the Future," Chloe laughs sadly. "I will see you soon, Max. Don't take too long, okay?"

I nod and smile, turning away from my friends and continuing with my mission completely alone. Sometimes you need to be alone though, this is my burden and I shouldn't inflict it on others. I hear the car pull away from the curb and I don't turn around, however, my heart sinks. The last time I'll see my best friends, that was my last memory with them.

I'll do it for them. I'll save everyone.

* * *

 _A/N: Please review, tell me what you thought!_

The past couple of days have been really rough, I got really ill and almost went to hospital. I felt a bit better this morning and, in between sleeping and coughing up my lungs (just kidding), I wrote this so you wouldn't miss out. Anyway, thanks for reading. 


	9. Don't think of me any less

People often have a habit of underestimating me; from the way that the teenagers stare, their predatory eyes alight as their eyes meet mine, I assume they see another person, me, that they can take their teenage frustration out on. Am I any different? I don't tear others down, instead I use myself as a canvas for destruction. It's okay, until something like Jefferson happens to you. The canvas is destroyed and the painting ruined, it can't be fixed. Victoria, cashmere queen, leans against the locker, her arms folded over her chest until she releases a hand and guards her whisper to Courtney.

The corner of her lips turn up in a cruel smile, her teeth sharp like razors and her words no different, before they both laugh and I'm forced to look down, or away. Then, I see something much worse. Stella, against the lockers, stares at Warren through underneath her eyelashes, his hand is spread across the lockers as he leans with one arm, laughing with her. At first, I try to assure myself that it's nothing. They were friends before I ever came along; I knew that and I should be comfortable with that. However, even so, I feel disappointed in him. Their positions look intimate, she knows more about him than I know.

From everything she does, I can tell. They have probably had countless conversations about their favorite movie, color, music and everything; they are comfortable around each other, they know their routine. Doesn't the girl always get the guy she wants in the end? I've seen the films and the best friend always wins. Max, Warren isn't something to be won! He either likes you or he doesn't, and now, I'm not sure. I shouldn't have stared at them this long but I can't help it, my mouth falls and becomes parted as I watch the scene in disbelief.

He laughs, his hair creeping down his face momentarily, before he shakes his head and catches my eye; he smiles but it slowly falls when he sees my expression, then distancing the space between him and Stella. I don't say anything but I swallow, nod and head into the classroom to see the man who I'm going to destroy. This should brighten my spirits, Max plan commenced.

Jefferson's hands cradle a wad of paper and he looks over them, I wonder if he's got Nathan's photographs. "Max," he says, a grin spreading on his dry lips. "Take a seat. What can I help my student with today?"

Although it's destructive to my recovery, I have to do this for Clementine, Rachel, Chloe, Warren and Victoria. There are so many others and although they've had the chance to redo their lives, I still remember what happened. This, all of this, is really for me; I should forget about him but I can't, I want to destroy him like he destroyed me. "Mark," the new name, which I have never said before, tears me into two. Can I do this? "It's kind of stupid but I was hoping, seeing as the position suddenly opened up, I could be your new assistant."

"That's great, Max. I would really appreciate the help, if you could, come today and meet me here after your lessons have finished," he nods, eyes alight with an emotion so heavy I can't decipher it.

After the lesson has ended and I, looking forward to escaping Blackwell for a while, exit the classroom with speed, I'm caught by Warren, the teenage boy who knows no end other than the one where everything turns out okay. I don't know where this comes from, I do know, however, that I am bitter now. Somethings changed in me, I'm not quite sure what. "Do you want something, Warren?" I avoid looking at him; I'm furious right now.

"I just wanted to say that, uh, Stella and I aren't together, we're not an item," he answers quickly, waiting for me to cut him off at any moment possible.

At first, I can't deny the relief that floods through me; I take a deep breath, relax my posture and stare at him with glassy eyes. I didn't want my chances with him to be over, I love him. On the other hand, I'm angry. He doesn't know the pain I've been through and nobody does, I can't tell any of them. He only knows what he wants and I am jealous, I want to be taken care of. I want him but he is not the person I fell in love with, that Warren is somewhere else. I'm given a Warren I use to know, someone I never loved.

But, as confusing as it is, he talks the same way as my Warren talks, he has the same opinions, the same voice and the same eyes that I use to stare into and wonder what kind of life I could have with him. There are a million things I want to tell him and I want to do but the most prominent one is just fall in love again; I love Warren. Out of the millions of people I will meet and the millions of people I won't, it's always going to be him. I can't shake him. "Warren," my lips slowly curve into a smile and I throw my arms around him. "You won't understand but I love you, you've been so kind to me when I had nobody else."

"Max?"

"So I will find a way to repay you, I promise," I take in the scent of him, the aura of Warren, before I do the most selfless thing I have ever done in my entire life. "I don't want pity or charity, I just want clarification. I've been through something that's broke me down in more ways than one. It's made me bitter, angry and most days I can't get out of bed without crying.

"And I'm telling you that I'm never going to be the same," I smile sadly. "I'm always going to think about how some shithead hurt me and how my life is ruined; I can never truly move on, not until I get revenge, which means I have to do things. It might make me a worse person, I don't know. I'm just tired of playing good when all that wins is bad, there's no good guys left."

"Max, what are you talking about?"

"I'm going to have to tell you everything and I don't want you to think of me less."

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the short length, I'm super ill. I've been back and forth from the hospital and haven't had time so I apologize, please enjoy the latest installment. XOXOMAXOXO because why the hell not.**


	10. And that's what I did

If you ever asked me what I think about Warren, it would be this: he is sweet and he is kind. Most likely, if not definitely, he is the best person I have ever met and will ever meet. Not that I've ever asked, in fear of lowering the mood, but I'm sure that he has his own insecurities and problems. I've seen them through the way he acts; confidence is not one of Warren's traits. He's stronger than I am or Chloe is and I'm not talking about physical strength, that counts for shit and can only get you so far. I'm talking emotionally and mentally. "Hey," hey says softly. "Why would I think any less of _you,_ Max? It's that bastard, that animal."

Although, lately, I've seen him grow angrier towards people and I'm not sure what to do about it. He is losing himself for me but he doesn't realize that's not what I want. I was right when I said there were no good guys left; I've changed into a person I don't like, I'm reckless, emotional and impulsive. Warren is consumed by his rage, Chloe is consumed by Rachel and Rachel is consumed by lies. We all have the ability to hurt another person, it's just some of us refrain from doing so. I use to be one of those people but, lately, all I can think of is my retribution on Jefferson. I'm bitter and twisted again.

+Some Place Else+

The wind combing her hair with its fingers, I watch Rachel stare outside of her open window. We have sat in silence for the last two hours, both exhausted. It feels like a never-ending car journey; Max, the hipster girl with her cool camera and my best friend, gave us the money to get to California. The plan is: we'll drive, stay in a motel in Oregon and then drive to California.

We're two teenagers, pretending that we have the best plan on the entire planet. The truth is I have no idea what I'm doing, it seems like this plan was all thought out until we actually did it. Rachel and I could be waitresses, live in a motel for a couple of months (most likely, years). She could go for modeling jobs at the same time, I could, I guess, do something else, too.

Ever since we left, I've been thinking about my mom. What's she going to do when I'm gone? Step-dick is there but she'll miss me, even if I'm an argumentative bitch sometimes. I'll call her and tell her it's just a road trip with Rachel and, uh, I won't be coming back from this trip. It's permanent. I can't take her back if she's in trouble. I love - "Keep your eyes on the road," Rachel touches my cheek, pushing my head so I face the road, smiling. "You'll have plenty of time to gaze upon the majestic Rachel when we get to Oregon."

"Aye, aye, captain." I salute her, she rolls her eyes and I hear her laugh. It's a beautiful sound and I don't know why but I feel like I haven't heard her talk, laugh or anything in months. Some other part of me feels sad as if this is all just a memory or a dream. "As instructed."

+Max and Warren+

When Warren punched Nathan, his eyes covered behind red glasses, I became scared. Once, he was a nerdy boy that was my best friend and now we're totally different people. I don't want him to change for me, to be willing to hurt someone else for me. That was never what I had intended to happen, I didn't want him to ever change for someone like me. "Warren, calm down," I sigh, placing my hand on his upper arm to soothe him. "You don't want to grow bitter, I'm trying not to."

"How could you not?" He asks, bewildered. "Max, that guy... laid his filthy hands on you. How could you not want to annihilate him? I want to kill him and I'm not even you! That bastard! That man, that ani-"

As if he needed to remind me of what Jefferson did, I flinch at the memory which pulls him from the crimson sea of rage and he surfaces to me again. The old Warren. "Warren," I sigh, pulling him further to the surface. I've been there before. I'm there all the time. "You can't change what happened to me, this is my fucking villain origin story and I don't want that. You can't let me become like him! I don't want to be like him I can't be I can't I swear he's ruined me I fucking hate this I hate me I hate myself I fucking hate everything!"

Usually, my inner monologues stay, well, _in_ my mind but, around Warren, I can't help but slip every once in a while. Strong, warm arms surround me, the true hero of the story is him. "You're so strong, Max," he comments, stroking my hair. "I'll help you, I love – I mean, I love who you are. You're probably the best person I've ever met and I'm so, so upset that this happened to you."

For a moment, I live through the reality of him helping me like Chloe did. I wouldn't feel alone all the time and I'd be contained with him; unfortunately, I can't put him in danger. I'm tired of living through playbacks of what's happened, I don't want to see Warren die in fifteen different ways before I rewind. "Thank you," I sigh. "But you can't help me."

I try to think of all the things that I want to say before he interrupts me. This is something I should do alone, I don't want you to think of me any less when I have to do atrocious things and I love you and I'm sorry that I am this way. Let's be honest, I'm damaged goods. "I'm damaged goods," I repeat, whispering to myself. "Warren, I told Chloe and Rachel. I sent them away."

No one knows this other than me; no one knows the millions of alterations of reality I've made, or how many stories, how many lives, I've tweaked by correcting a mistake. "Then I should help," he says soothingly. "You can't do this on your own and I don't want you to."

No one knows how many times I've seen my best friend die. "Warren, you don't understand. If they had stayed, they would have died." I pull my knees to my chest in his car, hugging my legs. "Which is why you can't stay."

"Just hear me out, Max, because-"

"No, Warren, you hear _me_ out." I reply firmly. "I can deal with this hatred I have, I can deal with not having my best friend around to talk to anymore and I can deal with you not being mine. Do you know what I absolutely can't deal with? Seeing you die. I love you, why would I want to see you die? Why can't you or Chloe understand that I can't take that anymore? I love you so don't make me."

His jaw strengthens as he grinds his teeth, erasing sentences that never made it from his mouth. "Okay, Max," he pinches the bridge of his nose and frowns. "I won't help you but you can't stop me from doing this on my own."

"This isn't a game of fucking superhero, Warren," I state angrily. "If you do this on your own, you realize I won't be able to rewind, right? I won't know you're dead, that's even more dangerous!"

"No, as you said, it's not a game of super hero," he clenches his jaw after he speaks. "It's a game of who's willing to do worse and I'll take the burden off of your shoulders because after everything, you come first to me. Always, Max."

I should have rewinded as soon as he said I'll do it on my own but, for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I love him and I can't take away his free will or knowledge, it's not my place. "Warren," I reach over to his seat and hug him in the confined space of his car. "I'm sorry you're doing this. I'm sorry I told you anything."

"Don't be, Max," he smiles. "I'm glad you did, let me take care of you just this once."

And that's what I did, I became selfish.

* * *

 **A/N: So, I know it's short again but I tried to pull myself together to write this one chapter. I got two reviews whilst I was ill and they really made me feel better and happier, thank you. I'm doing a bit better now. I wanted to update for you! :) I hope you enjoyed, if you have anything to say review~ Anyway, thanks for reading.**


	11. A boy worth noticing

The appeal of - for once - letting yourself fall into a spiral of selfishness looked extremely tempting; however, as I saw Warren's face, I realized there was no point in reliving my hell and informing the people I loved of what I had lost. I lost so much: a part of myself, my sanity, my ability to stay calm through bullshit and to not rely on my rewind power. I was a walking science fiction novel and, whilst that was sometimes cool, I just wanted to feel as if I had something else other than a power to feel awesome. I'm so much more than what I can do, or I used to think that. "Hey Warren," I say as he slowly slips away from my embrace, returning to a comfortable position. "Let's ditch?"

Although I meant it as a demand, my pitch indicated it was a question. That didn't matter, I realized, because Warren's head tilted to form a positive response to my question. My grin spread from ear to ear, I began to think of a plan. "Can we go for a ride in your baby?" I patted Warren's ancient and rustic car, feeling the dust from the bonnet immediately on my fingertips. "Unless you'd rather stay in Blackwell?"

"With that creep inside?" He raised an eyebrow, shaking his head. "And how I could I refuse the company of Mad Max and her superpowers?"

I rolled my eyes but couldn't resist smiling; he was beautiful. When we began to drive, and he hummed Joan Jett's masterpieces of music under his breath, I observed him rather than the surroundings. I accepted his imperfections, I accepted every part of him. I was pretty sure, after everything, he was the boy that I would adore since the day I died. I know it is a cliche and I'm not the type to believe in 'one love of your life', I don't believe it at all. Warren, however, is the first one, which is important. God, I hope he's the last too. I hope that because he will be by my side, I won't have to fall in love with someone else again. "You know," I murmured. "Your singing voice is great, you're like my personal radio."

Warren's eyes slowly traveled to meet mine and although he laughed, his tone had a fake annoyance hidden in it. "You know, Max, you're crushing my dreams, here I was with hope to be the next pop star," he pretended to wipe a tear from his eye, the comical action caused me to laugh. "And now you're laughing at me? What kind of monster are you, Max?"

I laughed but, underneath, there was truth behind his sentence; I tried to bury this part of my personality in the deepest parts of my soul, yet it still remained, its urges made me impulsive. See, Jefferson is a sociopath or a psychopath, for which I don't care. However, as I laid on the floor awaiting my next dosage, there was one sentence that he said of which I'll never forget.

* * *

Max. My name is forever tainted from the poisonous tip of his tongue and the venomous tone he uses, I will never forget what he has done. I hate him. I _hate_ him. People use the word hate casually but they don't know the truth behind the meaning; as I looked at Jefferson, there was a part of me that was murderous. I wanted to kill him for what he had done, expose him to the world and torture him slowly. I was just like him, except the only person I'd punish - him - would have done me wrong. No, he was much, much worse than I. "Max, you and I, we're alike," he began saying.

Click.

The camera flashed in my eyes. Another name for another folder with my name, a name that had been tainted from the poisonous tip of his tongue. I hate him, I hate him, I hate everything but I hate him. He is the person who has ruined my life, the person who I will never forget. "I've seen that look, Max," he said, and I bit my lip to keep from shouting. "That look you give me is ravenous for revenge! And how delightful, my best student has continued in my works."

Saliva swirls in my mouth as I gather it before spitting at him, the substance landing on his trousers. "Die in hell." I croaked, throat dry and emotions raw. He deserves it all, everything I give him.

"Likewise, my darling."

* * *

Surrounded by darkness, I am launched into my past until fingers are clicked in front of me. I follow the trail of the arm, the curve of the elbow, the slant of the shoulders until I see him again. Warren. His face was focused on me and - momentarily - panic crept into my emotions as I realized he was suppose to be driving. However, I then notice the car has stopped and we are surrounded by trees. By light. "Max, are you okay?" He said, concerned. "You zoned out a bit there."

"Me?" I asked, my mouth curved in a lopsided smile. "I'll always be alright, Warren."

There was something I hadn't expected, his lips crashed against mine is a frenzy of worry and comfort and love. They were warm, like his chest which I had pressed my hand against. It wasn't passionate but, instead, the kiss was cradled with tenderness between our lips. "Warren," I smiled against his lips. "I think, of all the things you could have done, that was the best."

I felt the curve of his lips as he smiled, his happiness hung in the atmosphere. Then, unfortunately, the warmth was taken as he pulled away, the moment now captured in memory rather than reality. "I wanted to wait, until you saw this place, to kiss you." He admitted. "But, Max, I need to tell you that I love you. I don't know if I've told you, I feel that I have but it's urgent I say it again. I. Love. You."

Surprised by his confidence, my eyebrows rose themselves and inched further up my forehead. "I think that's the first," I lied, recalling all the times he had said it and I had erased it. Now, it's official. I can't turn back, I won't. "What is this place anyway? Are you luring me into the woods to kill me? That would be an odd confession to make for the act you're about to make."

He smiles, "Damn, you've ruined my plan."

"Ha ha ha!" I laugh evilly.

"No, actually, just follow me." He orders. "It's a surprise."

Underneath the shade of the trees, we exited the car and, hands connected, walked to wherever he was taking me. After a while, there was a barbed fence and he found an opening and we crept through it. That is when the sight exploded into my vision; further on, in the opening of trees, there was a lake, around the edge were scattered rocks of different sizes and in the background lurked the tall silhouette of the light house. "Wow," I vocalized my first thought, caught in the essence of wonder and amazement. "Warren, this is incredible."

I examined everything thoroughly; hello rock, trees leaning over the lake, which connected to the beach's ocean, Warren's hand in mine and the ever present reminder of the early morning sun. "I have no words," I smiled, turning to view Warren only to find he was looking at me. Embarrassed, I turned away but he never did. "You've got some explaining to do."

"Have I?" He pulled me closer, laughing. I had never seen this confidence before.

"How have you never shown this place to me before?"

We took to a large rock and he unveiled his story, which I found hard to hear. "I use to come here a lot, it's beautiful so I just came back time after time. If I was pissed at my mom or the world, I'd sit here alone and just wait for things to get better," he paused, finding it hard to vocalize what he had trouble thinking. "I hated who I was, my geekiness was unbearable. I was bullied badly, I didn't want to live. This place, for some reason, always calmed me.

I mean I was always going to be the opposite of a Casanova but then I met you, and I liked you so badly. You were cool without even trying, you were strong and you didn't take any bullshit - from _anyone!_ I fell in love with you quickly, waiting and hoping you'd notice a boy not worth noticing, I guess. Stupid crap, really. I just, I wanted this place to be a reminder of something good, so I promised myself that you would be the first person I ever showed this to.

That way," he continued. "This place would always remind me of you, Max."

"Warren," I wrap my arms around him. "You're worth noticing, always have been. I love you, too."

* * *

 **A/N: Sick author's note again.**

 **You wouldn't believe it; got rid of one thing, then got the flu. My immune system needs to get its shit together, seriously. I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, I'm now better and functioning (hopefully) right! I will see you for the next installment (aka please don't forget about my story xD)**

 **Thanks for reading, please leave a review ! :)**


End file.
